


An (incomplete) love story

by HighlyExplosiveContent, raziella



Category: Hercules (1997)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, F/M, Hercules is a cinnamon roll, Hurt Meg, Inaccurate Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Light Angst, Minor Character Death, Poetic, Romance, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 07:57:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20272570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighlyExplosiveContent/pseuds/HighlyExplosiveContent, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raziella/pseuds/raziella
Summary: Have you ever wondered about Meg’s backstory, about that ex-boyfriend that broke her heart? Did you ever think about what she was like before betrayal made her cynical and determined not to ever fall again for the same mistake?This is Meg’s story.





	An (incomplete) love story

**Author's Note:**

> This is a character study I made when I was doing Meg as cosplay. I've always found Meg a complex character with a depth I couldn't reach. This was an attempt to see behind that smirk of hers.  
It's also a gift for my best friend and co-author who had loved this character since she was a kid. Without her, this wouldn't have been possible.  
/raziella

It was on a hot day, this she remembers. The air felt as thick as molasses and Meg was making her way home from a day of leisure in the citadel. She had been looking forward to nothing but getting out of her dusty clothes and submerging herself in the cool waters of the palace baths.

When she arrived at the gates she noticed there were servants running around, tending to foreign horses and carrying chests with family crests not belonging to her family. On the steps to the entrance hallway her mother was waiting. She could feel a knot building in her stomach as she approached.

Before she could speak, her mother was explaining.

There was to be a union between houses. It was for the benefit of her as well as her family. He wasn’t that old. His father was a friend of her father. She really shouldn’t be upset.

There was a buzzing in her ears for most of the conversation. She remembers she had nodded.

_Make your father proud._

***

Walking down the cool hallways, she came upon loud voices, one of which was high and very familiar. Haemon. Her little brother was the joy and pride of the palace dwellers. With his bright hair and sunny smile, they called him the Golden boy. The hope of the family. The miracle baby who was born when even the family physician had said it was too late for her mother to have more children.

Of course, to Meg, he was none of those things. To her, he was her beloved little brother. More precious than any object she owned, title she carried or friend she would ever make. She walked faster.

The other voice, she saw as she came out through the archway to the courtyard, belonged to a man she had never seen before. She stopped short when she saw him.

He was showing her little brother the proper grip on a two handed sword. Her little brother was looking up at him with round and expectant eyes. The foreign man, with light hair and broad shoulders, was speaking in a low voice that carried easily across the yard. With patience even the most experienced trainers had never showed Haemon before, he gently corrected Haemon’s grip and patted him on the shoulder and smiled. Her breath caught. He was beautiful.

It was like in a love story. Their eyes met across the yard. He stopped and his mouth dropped open.

His name was Leander. He had come in the company of the man she was to marry.

***

“I shouldn’t,” she said but she didn’t stop him as he tipped the bottle so more of the rich, fruity wine poured into her goblet.

She felt grown up and important as he looked at her and said:  
“You’re old enough to make decisions for yourself.”

She smiled halfheartedly and looked down.

“I wish my father saw it that way.”

He looked at her inquiringly and she felt a blush crawl up her cheeks.

“It’s nothing,” she mumbled and took another sip of the wine.

“It didn’t sound like nothing,” he murmured. His face was very close to hers. She wasn’t sure when he had moved so close.

“It’s just…,” she struggled to get words out with his breath on her cheek. “He wants me to marry someone. I’m not sure it’s the right choice for me.”

“Mhm,” he agreed and she felt emboldened. “Then what is the right choice for you?” he asked, a hand making its way to her knee and slowly stroking up and down her thigh.

His hand felt very large on her leg. He was leaning close and she was grateful his gaze was directed downwards, rather than at her face. She wasn’t sure she could have spoken at all if not.

“I want to-” she whispered and struggled.

“Yes?”

“I want to get married for love.”

Leander made a small noise in his throat and Meg felt mortification swallow her up. He was laughing at her!

“Never mind,” she said and pulled away.

“No, I’m sorry,” he said and grabbed her arm. “I didn’t mean to make fun of you. I think it’s cute.”

“Cute?!” she yelled and stood up, hating how shrill her voice sounded.

“No, I mean, brave! It’s very brave of you.”

She let herself be pulled back down next to him. He put his arm around her and pressed a kiss to her cheek. His lips were moist and left her skin feeling chilly when he leaned back a little.

“I think you’re very brave. Only the brave ones dare to love.”

Slowly her heart settled down. Brave? Was she brave? Or foolish?

***

They spent weeks sneaking out of the palace, catching moments together in the corners where no one was looking. He took her into the town to explore parts she wouldn’t have dared to go alone. She saw sides of society she didn’t know existed and wondered at the abundance of riches she and her family enjoyed on a daily basis.

In the dead of night he would tell her of Theophilus, his best friend. The man she was to marry. In hushed voices Leander told her of Theophilus’ many exploits with women, how he enjoyed their company for a night and then left them behind. He told her of the many bastards running around their city and his parents’ desperation to marry him off in hopes of calming his behavior.

When she met with Theophilus, she watched for this behavior, measuring his every word and scrutinizing every touch. She felt sure she saw his perverted thoughts in every blink of his eyes and every tentative smile he shot her.

It was but inevitable for him to eventually make an infraction.

In retrospect it wasn’t odd for a man engaged to marry a woman to attempt to kiss her, but in her mind, she was already taken by another.

She slapped him as he reached for her. She could see the thunder build in his eyes. When he moved towards her, she felt fear grip her, and screamed. She kept on screaming until all the guards had entered the room and brought him away from her. He was yelling and reaching for her but she turned and ran from the room.

She didn’t know where she was going but her legs brought her to the place she would be safe. To the man who encouraged her to be brave and follow her heart.

***

Her father caught them in the stables. Her dress was on the floor and his hands were touching her places she hadn’t been touched before.

There were a lot of loud voices. Many threats were hurled and when her father unsheathed his sword she felt as if the bottom dropped out of her stomach.

She had thrown herself on the floor in front of her father and begged him to spare him, naked as the day she was born, desperation cracking her voice, making it unrecognizable in her ears.

Her father had looked at her as if he didn’t know her. For a moment she was terrified he would strike her down as well.

Her father was merciful. Leander had been taken to be brought to justice by his own people.

In the end, it didn’t matter.

Theophilus condemned him to death. Leander had been executed at midday in the courtyard Meg had seen him in for the very first time. The sun had burned down on their backs, even the heat reminiscent of that day only a few weeks prior. His blood watered the dry dirt, creating thick clods in the desert dry heat.

***

Desperation is an ugly thing.

When the Gods didn’t listen, she turned to the devil. The road to Hades was dotted with pain and sacrifice, but as she stood before him, she felt nothing but determination to have her voice heard.

“There is a price,” he told her and she shook his hand.

The feeling of a soul in her arms felt slimy and wrong. On some level she knew what she was doing was wrong and born of selfishness but when she lowered his essence into his body, and he drew breath again, she felt a vindictive pleasure that overrode everything else. This was hers and no one could take it away from her.

She watched him sleep all through the night, hacking for breath through his bruised throat. She stroked his skin and thought of what future they could have had.

As he blinked his eyes open, she smiled tentatively.

“Hey,” she said quietly, at a loss for words. “How are you feeling?”

She looked away as he turned on his side and heaved.

As his body shook in convulsions, she stretched out a hand to comfort him. His skin was cool and clammy. He flinched away as if burnt by her touch.

“I’m- I’m sorry,” she whispered, shaken.

“Don’t touch me, you demon!”

His words cut like ice.

She stopped dead. The air felt cold all of a sudden. She watched him as he scrambled to his feet. He staggered about, his legs barely holding him up. She ached to help him, but when she reached him with her arms stretched out he shoved her.

She fell on her back, the sharp rocks on the ground scraping her hands open.

“What have you done to me?” he yelled, but it didn’t appear as if he expected an answer.

He kept looking around as if searching for something. She felt numb when she realized it was the exit.

***

“Was it everything you hoped for?” Hades asked her, looking at her as if he already knew the answer.

She looked away.

***

She paid the price. For years and years she paid her dues to Hades in the underworld.

***

The sun burned in her eyes when she breached the barrier separating the underworld from the world of the living. Her feet felt sore to bleeding point, her throat was parched and a hunger was burning so vicious in her stomach she might puke.

In the distance she could see the gates leading to her childhood home.

A respite, Hades had said to her, for good service.

The gates hung ajar and she got rust on her hands when she pushed them open with a whining that sent a shiver down her back.

Where were the servants, she wondered as she walked up the steps to the entrance hallway. Where were the dogs, the horses and the palace dwellers?

There was sand on the floor as if no one had bothered to swipe it in months.

She had reached the center of the palace before she detected any sign of life. In the usually abandoned throne room, in the chair poised on the dais usually empty, sat an old man. She didn’t recognize him until she had stepped up to the very steps leading up to the chair.

It was her father.

Aged beyond his years, with sunken in cheeks and unkempt hair, it was her-

“Father.”

He didn’t respond.

She walked the few steps up and fell to her knees by his side, placing her hands on one of his.

“You’ve come back,” he croaked out. “I wondered if you would.”

“I came as soon as I could.”

“You shouldn’t have bothered.”

Something cold tightened in her chest.

“Why do you say that?”

“What’s there left to come back to,” he asked but it wasn’t a question.

“Where’s Haemon? And mother?”

He didn’t answer.

***

Meg didn’t look back as she turned around and left. Her father had made it clear to her that even though she was still alive, while Haemon and her mother lay in the ground, she was as good as dead to him.

Refusing to let Hades and his demonic henchmen ever see her vulnerable (not again), she let herself go right outside of the palace. Her choked sobs seemed to echo through the courtyard.

_My baby brother._

Haemon had always been a sensitive boy, inclined to quiet and sullen contemplation in his chambers. Her mother… Well, she must have been completely grief-stricken to lose her only son, right after her daughter had disgraced the entire family.

One hour later Meg stumbled out through the creaking gates. Her eyes were swollen and red. It was too hot, too bright outside, but she shivered as if it was cold.

***

Meg hadn’t thought she would ever see Leander again. The next time their paths crossed, he called her name and gently touched her elbow. When she turned around to face him, her mind took a long moment to process the very face of the man she had once dreamed would be with her throughout her days.

He looked good, much better than the last time. His ruffled hair still shining in the afternoon sun. He smiled warmly at her and she tentatively returned it.

She ached to tell Leander about what had happened, what she had had to do in order to save him. About Haemon and her mother. About her father… About her debt to Hades and all the things she had been made to do in order to pay it back. About how she still dreamt of Leander.

“Wow, it’s really good to see you!” he said, slapping her on the arm.

“You… You too,” she answered, her mind still reeling.

Despite all the ruckus in the market surrounding them, she heard his familiar voice as if they were the only ones left in Thebes, reverberating in her own chest.

“Listen,” Leander said and leaned closer to her. His scent was different, she thought. “I feel like I should apologize to you, for the way I acted last time.”

His eyes searched hers and she sunk into their depths as if no time at all had passed. His breath was on her face and his hand was burning a scorch mark into her skin.

“I was in shock. But now I understand that you must have saved me.”

As if a great burden was lifted from her shoulders, she felt like she could breathe fresh air again. Hope blossomed in her chest, a tidal wave sweeping her away.

“I’m sorry. For the way I acted, for yelling at you.”

Stupid, silly Leander. As if any of that mattered anymore.

“That’s- that’s all in the past now,” she said, feeling as if her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth. “It was a long time ago,” she continued and thought of the remaining years of her servitude. “Of course I forgive you.”

He had come back. He had found her! He would wait, surely he would wait for her.

His face was just cracking up into a sunshine of a smile, relief at her words, when-

“My love, I lost you in the crowd!” a young woman’s melodious voice cut through their bubble.

She was beautiful. Her light brown hair of bouncy curls reached down to her waist. She had luxurious garments on, jewellery around her slender neck and wrists. The woman gracefully wrapped herself around Leander’s arm and looked up at him adoringly. The worst part, Meg realized with a sinking feeling in her chest, was that he returned her look of devotion.

“Hey, sweetie,” Leander spoke softly. “I was just catching up with an old friend.”

He said it casually, as if he had never pressed his naked body against Meg’s, or kissed the nape of her neck.

She wanted to scream, to shove this woman away from Leander, her beautiful Leander. But he wasn’t hers. She stood frozen to the spot as he explained.

“Meg, this is Aiketerine,” Leander said. “My wife.”

Meg’s vision blurred. He had a wife.

“Honey, I don’t mean to be rude to your friend,” Aiketerine said with a speculative glance at Meg, as if she barely registered as more than a peculiarity in their busy lives. “But we really need to go unless we want to miss the play.”

Leander smiled apologetically at Meg, as if he’d accidentally run into a stranger on the street.

“Oh, well,” he said, shrugging. “It was good seeing you again, kid.”

They walked away. Leander threw a smile at her across his shoulder and waved, and then they were swallowed by the masses.

Meg couldn’t speak. She couldn’t move. Not until they were well out of view and somebody roughly walked into her from behind, grumbling irritably, did she draw a sharp breath.

***

Hades welcomed her back with a commiserating pat on the shoulder and she felt like screaming.

The tasks he set before her didn’t seem as revolting anymore. Really, what did she care? People’s hearts were fickle at best. They should blame themselves for the situations they put themselves in.

She could feel herself growing colder, caring less and less about what she was turning into. She was in service of the god of the underworld - what else did they expect? Compassion? There wasn’t any left in her heart. Forgiveness? The sinful could dwell in Tartarus for all she cared.

Hades would look at her with a small, pleased smile playing on his lips when she did something especially cruel. The smile would chill her to her bones.

***

Once or twice, when the soul of an innocent, or a child, would float down to the underworld, screaming as all the dead did, she would feel a small shiver in her chest. Nothing remarkable, but something that would make her look up and watch the lost soul and think that it used to mean something.

A wistfulness would come over her and she would draw away from Hades for a while. This displeased him, but he allowed for eventually she would always sink into numbness and return to him again.

But sometimes, she would look down on her bloodied hands and wonder.

***

The day she met Wonderboy was an insignificant one. Another day, another service. This time a potential ally in a war she didn’t care about. He was a pervert, but there was nothing unusual in that.

The moment the man, boy, she corrected herself, stumbled into their conversation, she couldn’t help but feel a mix of incredulity and annoyance. She was working, couldn’t he see that?

But on the other hand, the bumbling mess of his attempted rescue, the wavering confidence and his shy smile tickled at something, a memory, she hadn’t thought of in years. Something that ached.

***

When Hades found out about Hercules, the son of Zeus, he was furious. Thankfully not at her. Mostly.

Hercules’s first step on the road to becoming a hero was entertaining. The hydra was a nice touch. The crying children, the multiplying heads. It was all set up for the perfect fall of a hero-that-wasn’t.

As they watched him defeat the monster despite all odds, she couldn’t help but smirk at the look of utter craze on Hades’s face. Her smile would shatter and fall later, when his wrath would turn to her.

In the following months, it was a game of cat and mouse, one Wonderboy was completely unaware of.

Hades grew more desperate. It wasn’t pretty. His impatience resulted in less thought-through plans and further failure.

His next orders didn’t come as a surprise, even though she wished it had.

_Find his weakness_, Hades said.

***

_“You know, wh-when I was a kid, I-I would have given anything to be exactly like everybody else.”_

_“You wanted to be petty and dishonest?”_

_“Everybody's not like that.”_

***

“I can't believe you're getting so worked up about some guy,” Hades said with utter contempt.

“This one is different,” the words were spilling out of her. “He's honest and, and he's sweet.”

The feeling of hope and sweet euphoria of love was foreign in her chest. It took up so much space inside her, borderline painful and yet so good.

“Please!” Hades scoffed.

She ignored him, the smile so wide on her face it was burning in her cheeks. “He has no weaknesses. He's gonna-”

When she turned around to Hades, his face was filled with glee. It took her a second, one split second, to realize her mistake.

“I think he does, Meg. I truly think he does.”

***

When Wonderboy looked at her with those big innocent eyes she felt as if she might be washed clean. In his eyes, she could be innocent again. His confidence in her could undo everything she had let herself become.

_“How do you know what I'm like?”_

***

In the end, it came down to a trick. It was always his game, after all. Hades would sell him her safety in exchange for his strength for one day. Harmless.

Bound by godly chains, she watched in horror when their hands clasped and the power rushed out of him. It was like a thunderstorm in a concentrated area and she could taste the acrid smell of electricity on her tongue.

Hercules fell to his knees.

When it was already too late to do anything, the ropes tying her up melted away like they were never there. She pushed up to her feet, rushing to get to him. He didn’t even look at her when he shoved her aside. He was _right there_ but the distance between them was infinite.

***

The heat returned first. The pain had been washed away sometime when she wasn’t paying attention. She drew a sharp breath of air into lungs that had been still for too long. There was a light edging their way into her consciousness, until her sight was restored.

His eyes were so blue, shining from tears and crinkled from his bright smile.

***

_Seven years later, In Thebes Agora_

“Meg!” a man broke out of the crowd and approached with a large smile.

Meg stared at the man for several seconds before his features jogged her memory. _Leander._

“How are you?”

“Leander,” she said without any particular inflection.

“It’s been ages!”

He looked good, perhaps a bit broader around the shoulders. He had grown a beard. She wasn’t sure it fit him.

“Yes, it has. How are you?”

He smiled widely (did he ever stop?) and told her about his life, his beautiful wife, their beautiful children and their beautiful house with their beautiful garden and something else that was also beautiful, she was sure.

“That sounds ... beautiful,” she said, a small smirk playing on her lips.

He took this as encouragement to continue his whole life’s story, drawing breath to go on (indefinitely, she felt), when something apparently caught his eye over her shoulder.

“Is- is that, is that,” he looked briefly back to her as if looking for confirmation. “Oh my gods, I think it is. I think it’s the mighty hero Hercules, savior of Greece!”

“I’m sure it couldn’t be,” she said without looking back. She knew he couldn’t already be done with the grocery shopping she’d left him to do in the market square. It would take a long while, she was certain, especially with the newly opened exotic fish exhibition in the Thebian port.

“No, I’m sure of it,” Leander said with a familiar air of awe, rudely staring over her shoulder.

She cast a glance behind her just to be sure, and felt her eyes stick to a figure she’d recognize anywhere.

“Oh, you’re right,” she said, vaguely distracting Leander, and raised her arm and yelled, “Wonderboy!”

Hercules was carrying about seven people’s worth of weight in grocery bags, but more distinctly, an enormous ceramic bowl that was squirting heavy splashes of water with his every excited step in her direction.

“Meg, my love! There you are!” He yelled above the crows, his voice making a warm feeling in her chest erupt. People parted way for him, either subconsciously moving away from his godly energy, or strategically stepping out of the lunatic’s way.

She couldn’t help but smile at this dofus and his complete ignorance of the ruckus he was creating in the square.

“Take a look at what I found in the new store, honey! These marvelous water creatures,” Hercules was happily explaining as he approached.

Meg felt slightly uneasy at those words.

“Herc, my love,” she began tentatively. “What’s in the bowl?”

“It’s exotic fish, they’re gorgeous,” he ensured her with a smile that was morphing into a nervous grimace as he got closer. “We could, y’know, keep them in the pond, and they hardly require any care.”

“To cook?” Meg asked, hopeful.

“To… live,” Hercules said and gave her a slightly pleading look. “As a pet.”

“Herc…” She shook her head, somewhat both annoyed and entertained.

“Meg, the saleswoman said they were gonna let them go!” Hercules explained frantically. “You know what that means?” he asked and shoved the bowl under her eyes to have her look at the exotic fish. “It means they’re going to kill them!”

She regarded them warily. They did indeed seem exotic. One of them seemed to have tentacles rather than fins. One had legs.

She was about to point out they didn’t all seem to be fish, but shut her mouth when she saw Hercules’ giant puppy-dog eyes, blue as the ocean and just as dangerous.

“We’ll talk about it later,” she said, and knew as she said it that she’d already agreed upon it.

Hercules seemed to know it as well going by the goofy grin spreading across his face. He smiled brilliantly at her and then looked around her curiously. Oh right she had forgotten…

“Herc, this is Leander,” she introduced.

Hercules put the bags and the enormous ceramic bowl on the ground gently. She didn’t imagine the small pat he placed on the not-fish. As he rose, Hercules smiled his huge, winning smile, extending a welcoming hand to the gaping man in front of them.

“My ex.”

His smile died.

“The one who-” he began but she gave him a look and he shut up.

“Leander, this is Hercules. My husband.”

Leander seemed to have lost the ability to speak. Meg didn’t much feel like helping him out, but rather leaned into Hercules’ side and smiled when he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her tightly against himself.

“It was… nice meeting you,” Hercules said and Meg was sure she was the only one who noticed the second-long hesitation before his affable and courteous manners kicked in.

“Zeus, son of-, gods..., Hercules,” mumbled Leander, somewhat incoherently.

When it didn’t seem as if the conversation would pick up again, Meg made to excuse them to leave, but then another woman caught up to them. At first she thought it was one of Herc’s fans, and steeled herself for the usual pleasantries. However, when the woman sidled up to Leander and wrapped an arm around him, she recognized this to be his wife.

“Leander, darling,” the woman, Aiketerine Meg vaguely recalled, began but then her eyes caught on the couple her husband was talking to and her voice died.

Leander seemed perfectly unaware she had even arrived.

Hercules, ever the gentleman, extended a hand to her and gently bowed to kiss the back of hand when she wordlessly stretched it out.

“It’s a pleasure,” he said politely.

“Ngh,” said Aiketerine.

“I’m Hercules,” Hercules said redundantly.

“I know,” the woman said with a slightly broken voice. She turned slightly to Leander and whispered very loudly, “Leander, sweetie, it’s _Hercules_,” putting enough emphasis on his name for them all to understand that she was a fan.

“Yeah,” Leander said weakly. “It sure is. Hercules.”

“Have you asked for his autograph yet?” she asked him quietly. She turned back to Meg and Hercules and leaned in conspiratorially. “He’s your biggest fan.”

Meg felt glee growing to proportions she couldn’t contain. It slipped out. She smirked.

“Well,” said Hercules. “This has been very nice, but I think we should get going. These fish won’t take care of themselves.”

He shuffled around with the bags (how many were there?!) and picked up the bowl as if it weighed no more than a pebble.

Meg looked at Leander and their eyes met.

“Have a nice life, Leander,” Meg said.

She searched her heart and found she didn’t bear any ill-will against this man who once caused her so much grief. In fact, she rather found she didn’t care at all.

She looked up at Hercules, found he was already looking back at her with a gentle gaze.

“Ready to go home?” he asked.

"Yeah,” she sighed happily.

He kissed the top of her head and together they walked out of town, going home, without looking back.

If they had listened, they would have heard an excited voice saying to her husband, “they make quite the couple, don’t they.”


End file.
